


Minor Crisises

by weepingalpacafuneral



Category: Daredevil (TV), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dopinder shows up because I love him and none of the Defenders/Team Red have cars, Foggy is good? He's just so good?, Frank Castle has the emotional intelligence of not very much but he's trying, M/M, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt can have little a emotion as a vulnerable moment, Team Red Mini Bang 2020, Trans Foggy Nelson, Trans Marci Stahl, Wade Wilson designated child wrangler for some reason, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, sorry about the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingalpacafuneral/pseuds/weepingalpacafuneral
Summary: Foggy is basically moved in with Matt.  Neither of them want to admit it, really.  But they both care for each other deeply (of course), and sometimes scary shit happens when your loved one is vigilante-ing.Wonderful, just absolutely amazing art is by @sucrosesorcery on Tumblr!Featuring:Team Red shenanigans with a heartVery platonic bro cuddles, we're not in love I swearFrank Castle being a good dude, albeit with not a lot of emotional intelligenceA child making industrial grade adhesiveAnd just a good and fun time where emotions are shared and trauma is unpacked!
Relationships: Frank Castle & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Frank Castle & Matt Murdock, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Marci Stahl, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Peter Parker, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson & Karen Page, Matt Murdock & Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 161
Collections: Team Red Pride Bang





	Minor Crisises

**Author's Note:**

> Some content warnings:  
> Canon typical Deadpool body horror  
> Mentions of bombs  
> A character having a very vivid and disturbing hallucination of a loved one being taken that isn't described in much detail

A disgruntled Daredevil climbs in through the window adjacent to the fire escape to collapse on a couch and complain to one Franklin Nelson.

He is not complaining about the Russians. Or the Irish. Or the Yakuza. Or even Frank Castle. 

He is complaining about something far scarier, and far, far more formidable. 

“Foggy he’s asking! Questions! About me! As a person! That was not allowed when I was a child! We just sort of. Prayed. Why is he asking questions. Why is he asking me questions! We are associates. We are colleagues. It is unprofessional!”

Matt had somewhat prostrated himself on the couch and had taken off his helmet, either for comfort (likely) or to win Foggy over with his puppy dog eyes (far more likely). 

“Matt, he’s what, 16, 17?”

Matt pouted before answering. “He’s 15.”

“Jesus, Matt.”

“Blasphemy. And he’s almost 16. I think.”

“Matt.” Foggy tried to keep his tone as tentative as possible while still shutting down the Catholic Orphan shtick. “It is perfectly reasonable for Peter to ask you about stuff like this. You’re a mentor figure! You’re his mentor figure!” Ignoring Matt’s squirming at the invocation of the mentor word, Foggy shakes his head. “If he asks you about it again, I can be there, ok?”

Matt nods hesitantly and discombobulates himself from the couch to slide next to Foggy and nuzzle into him.

“Matthew you know the rule.” Matt whines. “Don’t make me point at the sign.” Foggy pauses for a moment. “Huh that’s actually kind of an ableist thing. Even though we don’t actually have a sign.” Matt whines again. “No cuddling directly after vigilantism showers must be taken, Matt. Hygiene is important.”

Matt whines on the way to his shower, and Foggy sets his favorite of Matt’s gag gift Christmas presents aside for him: it’s a bright pink shirt covered in neon green avocados that’s immensely soft. Matt somehow manages to pull it off. Foggy has considered ordering a version of the fabric as a court tie for Matt.

\--

It’s a few weeks later, when nearly the same scene repeats, with Matt lying on the couch after a night out, complaining about some part of his night, and then cuddling, and then sleep, that Foggy realizes that he’s basically moved into Matt’s apartment.

He calls Marci, because what else would he do. No one quite gives practical but excruciatingly blunt advice like Marci. She sends him the address of a fancy coffee house and tells him to look nice, for god’s sake, Foggy Bear. He arrives in one of his nicer suits, left over from his official employment with HC&B, and Marci only raises her eyebrow a little bit at his wardrobe, so he considers it a win.

“Foggy Bear, to what do I owe the pleasure? Regretting your second firm with short, blind and handsome?” He grimaces and she smiles. Just like law school.

“Public service is a great calling. We get paid in the best damn tamales you have eaten.” He smiles back, volleying the banter back to Marci.

“Girl problems, then?”

“Not really.”

“Guy problems?” He grimaces again, this time without warning, and he twists his mouth into a neutral position as fast as he can.

“Kind of.” Marci cocks her head to the side and beckons for him to continue, waving the waiter bringing them ridiculously small espressos away as an afterthought. “So. I’ve kind of moved in with Matt.”

Marci shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose with perfectly manicured nails. “And of course, you are still deeply and irrevocably the best of bros.” When Foggy raises an eyebrow at her use of “bro”, she smiles sweetly. “Foggy dearest, only one of us was in a frat, and it wasn’t you.” She takes a delicate sip of her espresso, and Foggy does the same, trying to hide his disgust at the strength of the coffee while Marci continues to smile innocently at him. “Do continue.”

“That’s… that’s actually pretty much it.”

“Hmm.” She pauses to take another sip of coffee. “Well, my advice still stands. 80/20 chance he’s queer.” She puts her cup down to put her hand in front of her dramatically. “It’s… it’s about the repression. Shoot your shot, Foggy Bear. It’s already been 10 years.” She finishes her coffee, lingering on the last sip. “If you need a booty call, though, you know where to find me.” She waves a waiter forward to clear her place and brightly exits the coffee house, waving back at Foggy. “Ta ta for now, Foggy Bear!” She pauses in the doorway of the coffee house and turns back to him, giving him one last critical look with her eyebrow raised. “You really need to get out more.”

A quiet and just a little bit stunned Foggy was left in the coffee house with his thoughts.

“Sir, may I take your things?” An unimpressed looking waiter gestured to Foggy’s relatively untouched coffee, and he nodded and made his way out of the coffee house.

\--

Foggy is asleep on the couch- on Matt’s couch- when he hears his phone ring. Which startles him just enough awake to remember that he always keeps his regular phone on vibrate or silent, which is the polite thing to do, and that if a phone is ringing, especially at night, it’s his burner phone. For vigilante wrangling.

He answers only slightly panicked, and he’s proud of himself for his control over the situation, even though he’s really probably just too tired to be passively anxious. 

It’s not Matt. Which is good. Or bad. Or very bad. It’s Spiderman- Peter- instead.

“Hi? Mr Nelson? I’m Spiderman? Double D said to call you if-” 

Foggy’s brain catches up to him and he connects that Spiderman being a child, Spiderman needing a lawyer, and Matt not available to mean bad things of varying degrees on many levels.

“Alright, what do you need me for-”

“Oh, uhm, actually it’s not me who needs you. It’s Wade?”

“Oh, thank god.” Peter makes a small questioning sound that fades into the faint din of a police precinct. “Have you told them anything?”

He scoffs quietly. “I’m not stupid.”

“Where are you?”

“The 29th.”

\--

With that, Foggy was in a taxi to Harlem discussing the narrative merits of Frozen (2013) with an excitable driver who, while not the most dangerous New York taxi driver, was still very enthusiastic about things Foggy thinks are probably dangerous but he doesn’t really know enough about driving to actually judge correctly.

The 29th is fairly busy, and Foggy is quickly shown to a room tucked into the back of the station. Misty Knight emerges from a door and waves him over.

“Got some of your crew.”

“I have been told.” 

She covers her eyes with the heels of her hands and takes a deep breath. “How do you do this?” She opens the door to a Spiderman hanging from the ceiling, which Foggy was prepared to see, and an unsuited Deadpool wearing an NYPD shirt and sweatpants, which Foggy was very much not prepared to see. Deadpool was very loudly discussing the function of an echidna penis, and the eyes of Spiderman’s mask were crossed in distaste.

“-and like, that’s fucked up if it’s true, like what if they were big, like fucking dinosaur size, mammoth size, and one just walked up to you-” Deadpool looked up to smile and wave at Foggy and Detective Knight. “Wade Wilson, pleasure to meet you, Counselor.”

Foggy turns to Misty. “What are they here for?”

She shakes her head. “He” she points to Spiderman “is here because he insisted on coming with his friend. His friend is here-” She sighs so deeply that Foggy starts to count 1 Mississippi-2 Mississippi until she takes a normal breath, and when she makes eye contact with him, her eyes are so devastated that Foggy genuinely fears for his life.

“He is here for public indecency.” Foggy lets out a sigh of relief. Public indecency was not bad. It was fine. He could deal. MIsty glares at Deadpool and sends a soft and neutral smile Spiderman’s way before turning to Foggy again. “I do not want to see Deadpool in my precinct ever again.” She shudders. “I have half a mind to call Luke, you know that?” 

Foggy nods.

“Just-” she gestures to Wade sitting at the table and Spiderman perched on the ceiling. “Just take them.”

Necessary paperwork and numerous apologies to the staff of the 29th later, Foggy, Spiderman, and Deadpool (still in NYPD clothes) were cramped into the same taxi that Foggy had gotten to Harlem in, because the driver knows Wade. Because of course.

“Another arrest, Mr. Pool?” 

“Yep! Public indecency!”

“Can you try to be a little less excited about public indecency, please?” Foggy takes back what he said last week about working with Jessica Jones, oh capricious and uncaring gods of vigilante wrangling: Jess is a beautiful soul, too good for this world in comparison to Wade Wilson. It then hit Foggy that Wade isn’t an American citizen. And he would have to do more paperwork. He mentally shook a fist at the vigilante wrangling gods, because the taxi wasn’t big enough for Foggy to really even move his arm, let alone dramatically and emotionally curse the forces that be.

The shock of a sudden and rather skidding stop at a red light startled Foggy out of paperwork hell and back into the crowded taxi, where, using his esteemed skills accrued by hard work as a glorified vigilante babysitter, he did a head count. There were two idiots. Three if you counted Foggy, and four if you counted the taxi driver. Foggy was missing someone. It was worse than that, actually, because he was missing his someone. He was missing his idiot.

“Hey where’s Daredevil?”

Being the wonderful if exasperating sunshine child he is, Peter popped his head up around Wade to answer Foggy. “Double D went to go find the other bombs!”

“What?!”

Apparently confused by Foggy’s minor crisis, Peter repeated himself. “The other bombs. Did you not know-”

“I did not, thank you Peter!”

Unconcerned with Foggy’s panic, Wade pushes Peter’s head back near his headrest and waves off Foggy. “Don’t worry about it. S’not that big of a bomb.”

Poking his head back to join the conversation, Peter very helpfully chimes in. “It blew you up.”

“Yes, it did, because I, unlike people who will die when being blown up, can deal with detonating bombs kind of easily.” Wade grimaces. “Well, painfully, but also pretty easily. The growing bits back is the time consuming part.”

“This is not helpful this is actually very very unhelpful, you guys, why? Did you let him? Go? On his own?” Foggy is not going to let the minor crisis turn into a medium/major crisis. He’s not going to. He works with these idiots, that’s basically his job. And how he spends his recreational time. It’s most of his life, in all honesty.

“Some shit with Fisk, apparently.”

“Fisk?” Foggy was going to maybe allow this particular night to slide into the medium crisis area. That was… well, it felt reasonable. He glances out of the window and realizes that he doesn’t actually know where they’re headed. He had assumed back to Hell’s Kitchen, but Peter lived in Queens if he remembered correctly, and Wade lived god knows where. “I still very much need to hear what’s happening with Fisk but where, exactly, are we going?”

Wade looked at him quizzically, and Peter leaned to a place where he wasn’t obstructed by Wade and did the same. 

“I thought you gave Dopinder directions” was his first response, from Wade. The taxi driver, Dopinder, waved cheerfully in the mirror at Foggy.

The second response was from Peter. “Yeah where are we going?”

A moment of silence passed before everyone looked at Dopinder, who shrugged. “I’m just very happy to be here.”

\--  


\--

The kerfuffle of the taxi’s destination settled by a discussion of who’s place was closest (it was Matt’s, and Foggy had the keys, and they sure as hell weren’t trekking to Peter’s aunt’s house in Queens, or Wade’s “not up to code, probably” not legally a living space, so it was Matt’s apartment). 

Foggy opens the window for Wade and Peter to jump in from off the roof because he’s not an idiot, Spiderman and Wade Wilson walking into Matt Murdock’s apartment is pretty damn suspicious, even for Hell’s Kitchen. Vigilantes on the roof is fair game, though. 

“Does anyone want to tell me what the actual fuck is going on?” Foggy glances at Peter out of guilt and gets wide eyes of the Spiderman suit staring at him before he takes the mask off to give Foggy an innocent smile.

“I’m in high school Mr. Nelson. And also” Peter gestures to Wade, who waves cheerfully in response, “Wade exists.”

Foggy smiles somewhat unconvincingly before he gets back into the original problem, the one that woke him up at 1 AM, took him to a uniquely talented taxi driver and the 29th precinct, picked up 2/3 of Team Red who told him that his 1/3 was chasing both Wilson Fisk (again) and bombs, plural. 

He might be having a medium crisis. This isn’t quite Midland Circle. But still. He should text Jess. And maybe Claire. And maybe- Foggy’s train of thought is cut off by his phone ringing. Again. Twice in one night and counting. 

“Hi I’m kind of in the middle of something right now-”

“Foggy, it’s me.” Karen was on the other line, apparently using a new burner phone, and she was pissed. Just a little bit. So no one was dead, probably. “Do you know why Frank got up in the middle of the night, *after* he went out? Because he just texted me “Don’t worry Red’s fine” out of nowhere and I am so close to calling Jess?”

“That… I’m gonna put you on speaker phone.” Foggy fumbles his burner from his ear to his hand, selects speakerphone, and places the phone on the coffee table Peter and Wade are sitting at. “Can you hear everyone?”

“I can hear you.”

“Ok. So I have Deadpool and Spiderman here because reasons, and I’m not going to catch you up for the sake of my sanity.” Foggy gestures to Peter and Wade to recount the events of tonight and Wade shrugs, nodding at Peter, who shrugs back and starts to speak.

“So basically Double D and Wade and I went out like we normally do, you know? And we were pretty much in and around Hell’s Kitchen because it’s Double D’s week, and Wade doesn’t get to pick places anymore since that one time the X Men showed up and bullied Double D, but we were around that one building that looks kind of like a robot because of the way the windows are- the one by the car billboard- and Double D just kind of perked up and stood really still and just started running? So Wade just kinda said go with it, so we did, and we ended up at the docks, because Double D’s villains love the docks, like half of the people we fight that are Double D’s have some kinda base or set up at the docks, and when we got there a huge dude in a really nice white suit turned around like he was waiting for Double D, like in a movie, and he started talking about how ‘This time he was going to make Hell’s Kitchen better no matter what, and because he’s Double D’s, Wade couldn’t shoot him, even though he was monologuing, like, a lot, and Wade really wanted to, and eventually White Suit Man revealed that he was a hologram all along and this was a distraction to get Double D away from Hell’s Kitchen so he could attack, so Double D took off again and we found him at a rent controlled apartment complex we sometimes patrol near Harlem, and it turned out that White Suit Man had planted a bunch of bombs, so Double D and I got people out while Wade tried to deal with the bombs, and-”

Wade cut in. “And it fucking sucked, honestly. Getting blown up is kinda painful. Getting blown up so much that you just sorta flop into an entirely different neighborhood is also kinda painful. That’s how we got to the 29th.”

Peter glared at Wade before taking the story over again. “Double D kind of yelled at me to get Wade, and then he kind of disappeared so I couldn’t really follow him, so I went to find Wade and when I got to where he was he was mostly healed up but he was also being arrested so then I called you. Er, I called Mr. Nelson.”

Foggy is just about to tell Peter to call him Foggy when Karen cuts in. “Jesus fuck, Frank.” Wade visibly perks up when Karen mentions Frank.

“Castle, you say?”

“I fucking wish it wasn’t.”

Foggy thinks that if Wade had eyebrows, he would be making a face halfway between impressed with Karen for sleeping with the Punisher and jealous that he didn’t get to sleep with the Punisher. But Wade doesn’t have eyebrows, so Foggy is treated to the truly interesting sight that is Wade emoting. Facial expressions rely on eyebrows a lot more than Foggy had previously thought, apparently. 

“Ok what do we do, then?” Peter is the first person to speak up after the awkward silence. “Should we go-”

Peter is cut off by a chorus of simultaneous “No”s from everyone, including Wade, which surprises Foggy slightly.

“Spidey, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but Fisk is a nasty motherfucker, and you’re, like, 12. I can’t do that- that’s, like, illegal, and Blondie and Blondie here are lawyers-”

Karen snorts. “Not a lawyer.”

Wade nods solemnly. “I’m very sorry for the misunderstanding. No one should ever be accused of being a lawyer.”

Foggy makes a little involuntary noise of distaste, and he tries not to pout. “Peter’s right, though. What should we do?”

Wade gets up from the chair he had been inhabiting and crosses his arms. “If Castle’s Red senses were tingling, Red’s probably pissed Castle’s muscling in on Fisk. Probably be fine, but I’ll check on them. Worst comes to worst I’ll bother Red’s justice friends and they can help.”

Peter frowns and tries to mimic Wade’s movements, getting up and crossing his arms. “But-”.

Wade gives him a sympathetic look. “You have a one gunshot wound per month quota and it’s the fifth, you sure as hell aren’t gonna get benched for a month because you wanted to help babysit Red and his murder boyfriend.”

Peter pouts. It’s super effective on Foggy, who has many, many younger cousins but has never managed to build up a tolerance to the pout. Wade notices and rolls his eyes at Foggy, shrugging. “You can stay here until Matt gets back if you want?” Why did Foggy frase that as a question. He’s cool. He’s good with kids. He can form complete sentences that make sense. He’s an adult. He’s so caught up in his tiny internal string of panic that he barely notices when Peter smiles at him and accepts the offer.

Wade shrugs at Foggy again and leaves through the front door, swinging it closed on the way out, and Karen exchanges some terse small talk before hanging up.

“So. Uhm. Do you want something to drink? Let me get you something to drink.” Foggy is cool. He is relatable. He can have a conversation with a teenager. Peter looks less than thrilled when Foggy shoves a room temperature can of RC cola into his hand.

“RC Cola?” Peter is looking so skeptically at the can that Foggy does a double take.

“Yeah. Uhm, I think Matt likes it because of like, nostalgia reasons.”

Peter continues to eye the can skeptically and eventually sets it down on a side table. Foggy is not at all good at this.

They continue like this for a while, awkward half conversations that lead into uncomfortable silence. It’s at least an hour before Foggy gets another call. It’s from an unknown number this time.

“Hi! Is this Franklin Nelson?” Foggy glanced nervously at the floor.

“This is he.”

“Can I have a minute to talk to you about Greenpeace-” Foggy lets out a shaky laugh and closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, now is a bad time.” He hangs up and laughs again, this time more grounded. Peter looks up questioningly, and Foggy just shakes his head. “Telemarketers.”

It puts both of them on a little bit more of an edge, though. So they wait some more, and Foggy ends up getting out some paperwork he’d been putting off, and Peter pulls out a phone, and they sit in amicable, albeit tense, silence.

And then shit starts happening on the roof. Foggy doesn’t exactly know what, but Peter pulls his mask back on and slips out and up onto the roof, telling Foggy to stay inside. 

Foggy doesn’t really want to let Peter go out, but he also doesn’t want to go outside himself, and adulting skills be damned, a superpowered teenager is probably going to handle this particular situation better than a perfectly average lawyer in his late 20s.

What Foggy doesn’t expect is for Daredevil to pry open a window and jump in, staying low to the floor and hiding behind furniture.

“Matt? Are you ok?”

He doesn’t answer, and starts upturning chairs, shelves, knocking things around so desperately that Foggy registers the hopelessness of the actions before he registers the violence of them. Peter flips back into the apartment and places himself between Foggy and Matt and tries to clock the situation.

“Double D? Double D it’s me. It’s Spiderman. Wade went to find you. Where were you?”

Matt doesn’t respond, not to Foggy and not to Peter, but he lets out an anguished cry and continues to tear through the apartment with renewed desperation.

Wade comes thundering in through the main door of the apartment, running past Foggy and Peter and into Matt, trying to tackle him. Matt slips out from the tackle and kicks back, squaring up against Wade, and then Frank is coming in through the door, mirroring Wade’s entrance just seconds prior and he’s trying the same maneuver, but with two people, it works a little bit better, and they’re able to subdue him.

Foggy is standing. He’s standing stock still in the middle of a ruined apartment, destroyed by its owner for apparently no reason, and he’s processing. He’s processing it. Peter is doing a similar thing, at least if the indicator is a blank stance and no outward reaction. After a while, he starts processing sound properly again, and he can hear Wade yelling at him and at Peter to “get a sedative, get anything, just get it fucking soon”, and he’s catapulted into motion towards the medicine chest and he grabs a heavy sedative, and Frank and Wade have done their best to hold Matt steady so Foggy can administer it.

The blur of the last couple of minutes is eclipsed by it’s anticlimax: Matt is laid on the somewhat still connected couch, and people are patching themselves up. Wade drags Peter home, and Foggy is waiting for Frank to leave too, but he doesn’t. Eventually Foggy finds a way to ask when Frank is going to leave in a polite and only moderately snoopy way, and Frank just shakes his head.

“Gotta watch him. Head trauma, n’ shit, and you couldn’t take all of those shifts to check on him.” Frank doesn’t say anything about needing to protect Foggy from Matt, and Foggy regrets the way he treated Karen after she told him about her and Frank. Foggy just nods in gratitude and moves pieces of furniture to make a somewhat serviceable area to sit.

\--

Foggy wakes up with a blanket draped around his shoulders. He also wakes up to the chatter of a select few of New York’s vigilante community. Frank is there, which he kind of expected, but Wade and Peter are in the kitchen in regular clothes, and Claire’s bag is on the counter. He accepts the cup of coffee Frank hands him before staring blankly at Frank in an effort to communicate his confusion. It’s an attempt Frank doesn’t pick up on, but Wade does, and he turns to face Foggy.

“Kid had some stuff to share about last night, and besides, you’re gonna need help to fix this shit up.”

Peter pops into the conversation when mentioned, holding up a cylinder of dubious make. “I made industrial grade adhesive!”

Before Foggy can comment on the fact that the very small 15 year old child made industrial grade adhesive, Claire walks into the kitchen and picks up her bag.

“Is he-”

“He’s fine, Foggy. Scared as shit, and freaked out, but he’s physically fine other than some scratches and bruises.”

Foggy lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and thanks Claire profusely before she leaves.

Peter gestures for his attention. “So I think I figured out why Double D was so freaked out? I think he ran into someone I’ve ran into before, this weird fish bowl head guy who calls himself Mysterio? He has a magic gimmick, but I’m pretty sure he just uses a really powerful hallucinogenic that makes you really anxious and shows you your greatest fears and you live them out and stuff.”

Foggy gets more details on Mysterio and related affairs, but he leaves the kitchen, which being as tiny as it is was already very crowded with 2 very large soldiers and one smallish teenager, for the bedroom where Matt is.

It’s dark, but Foggy can hear Matt’s breathing, and he sits down on the edge of the bed, extending his hand and placing it so that Matt can take it if he wants. After a beat, Matt does reach out, shuffling the covers to hold Foggy’s hand. Foggy strokes his thumb over the back of Matt’s hand and waits to see if Matt will say anything.

It’s mostly Matt breathing, and Foggy holding Matt’s hand until Matt whispers something into a blanket.

“What was that?”

Matt mumbles something that’s still too quiet for Foggy to hear, and it seems like he knows that, because he repeats himself again, slightly louder but still extremely quiet. “They took you.”

Foggy thinks about what Peter had said, about a hallucinogenic that played on fears, made them real. He puts that train of thought aside and squeezes Matt’s hand. 

“I’m here.” 

Matt makes a soft sound Foggy can’t quite place, but after a while Foggy recognizes it as crying. He scoots Matt over to the side of the bed and sits down next to him.

“Can I hug you?” Matt nods and Foggy hugs him, pulling Matt’s legs perpendicular to his own and letting Matt rest his face in the crook of his neck. “I’m here. I’m here.” 

They sit like that for a long time, cuddling with urgency, something Foggy had never really thought was a thing before he considered that Matt could not be there for real. Eventually Foggy gets up to make food, and the lesser New York vigilante community is gone, and Foggy has 3 texts: one telling him that Red picked good as far as boos go, one telling him that Karen is making injury chicken casserole, be warned, and one detailing the finer points of using an incredibly powerful industrial strength adhesive and wishing Double D good vibes.

Foggy eventually gets back into bed to go to sleep, missing the fourth text message.

Franklin Nelson was added to the group chat Red’s apartment fix up.

Wade Wilson changed the group chat’s name to Red+boo (shipname needed) nest shit time.

Peter Parker: What is this for?

Wade Wilson: To unwreck Red’s apartment, haven’t you been paying attention.  
Wade Wilson: We do nice things for people when major shit happens, like a budding relationship or whatever.

Peter Parker: I thought Mr. Nelson and Double D were married???

Wade Wilson: Castle look at this shit. This child did not see the pining. The yearning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yall enjoyed!  
> Just the most majorest of thanks to @sucrosesorcery on Tumblr for the beautiful art of the taxi scene!


End file.
